Over this time, security continued to be increased across all of the Bayard enterprises. Though a favorite of the Gran Blancs and various government officials, the Hotel de la Couronne suffered no attacks or demonstrations of unrest. In fact, despite the palpable tension throughout the island, 1790 was an extremely profitable year for the hotel. Debate required socialization—and La Couronne specialized in just that.

Food provided the motivation to venture into public space. Liquor lubricated the tongues for spirited debate—though barely skirting argument and outright confrontations; gambling channelled tensions into other avenues, and Henry and the hotel were happy to provide all.

 Over the summer months, Cap-Français buzzed with an oscillating climate of joy, terror, anxiety, and amusement. No one seemed to know where the colony was headed—and the uncertainty materialized in all too real consequences. Every so often a dead body would appear in a back alley, or wash onto shore. Violence spread indiscriminately throughout each caste.

Many undertook the mantra of living each day as though it may be their last. This zeitgeist manifested in interesting ways: more parties, more debates, more fights, more love-making, more crime, more pleasures, and more violence. The colony was undergoing a euphoric fit of transformation, fueled by the constantly conflicting news emanating from Paris. It was as frightening as it was invigorating.

Ever cautious, Jean and Marie still couldn’t help but become enveloped in the spirit of it all. It was as if their beloved town had gone mad; a sort of alternate reality—a circus of follies unimaginable even a year prior.